November 14, 2012

A cold shiver ran down Meera’s spine as the darkness engulfed her. Not a tiny crack of light anywhere. She tried to move, but her arms were blocked by the doors in front and the shelves behind. There was hardly an inch or so between her breasts and the doors. She let out a sob and cramped her hands against the doors, pushing with all her might. The rough edges of the wooden shelves dug rudely into her back, as she heaved and strained. The solid heavy doors didn't even creak. She screamed. And screamed again. Cold sweat rushed out of her skin pores. And then she felt it.

Something ticklish crawling up her leg. She went limp in fear .

She was cooped up in a pitch dark cupboard with a massive, hairy tarantula. Terror etched itself onto her brain, her heart dreading the moment when its fangs would sink into her skin.

Five days ago

“Tarantula,” Jaiswal said as he lit a cigarette.”The name has an interesting history.”

“Hmm?” Vidyut raised his eyebrow quizzically.

“The true tarantula,” Jaiswal uttered and paused a moment for a puff, “was a European Wolf Spider named after the town of Taranto. Southern Italy. People were shit scared of its venom. And people bitten had to avoid falling into a coma by dancing to a lively tune known as the tarantella.”

“Nasty little things,” Vidyut chuckled as he took a sip of his whiskey. “You sure have a crazy test in pets.”
Jaiswal's obsession with poisonous spiders was known to everybody acquainted with him. His previous pet had been a cobalt blue tarantula, which he had flown in from Thailand. He would stand in front of it for hours. Marveling at its iridescent blue legs and light gray body with a child-like fascination in his eyes.

“I call my new pet Shinde,” Jaiswal sounded smug.

“Shinde?!” Vidyut stared at Jaiswal. “Why the fuck did you name it after your...”

Jaiswal's lips curled in amusement too. But the smile vanished a fraction of a second later.

“So you think this ring is that valuable?” His tone became matter-of-fact and intent.

“Fifty lacs. Easily.” Vidyut put down his whiskey and turned his gaze at Jaiswal.

Jaiswal ground his cigarette stub in the ash-tray and turned to his associate. “Fifty lacs? You sure?”

“Positive,” Vidyut smiled, exposing his gums as well as his gilded pre-molars. “The right customer may even cough up sixty.”

“I still can’t believe such a priceless ring can be found… there,” Jaiswal shook his head incredulously.

“Mr. Sriram’s grand-father was a heavy hitter in the government circles,” Vidyut answered. “He pulled a lot of strings."

“A black opal ring gifted to Lord Curzon by the Queen herself!” Jaiswal whistled. “And the government just forgot about it!”

“When all the valuables were being catalogued after Independence, some got conveniently lost or misplaced,” Vidyut grinned goofily. “That ring never existed as far as the authorities are concerned.”

“I just wonder how much bureaucratic influence Sriram’s grand old man had to pull off a stunt like that,” Jaiswal mused in amazement.

“The irony is-Sriram himself doesn’t have a clue about the worth of that thing.”

“Hmm. There is no way he would keep the ring at his own house if he knew.”

“Can’t blame him,” Vidyut poured in two pegs of Signature into his empty glass. “Very few people do. Come to think of it. It’s merely an accident that we came to know about this. If it hadn’t been for our guy at the government office, those papers citing the grand-dad’s connection to the ring would never have been found.”

“The grandpa never told anybody in his family??!!!”

“Sriram’s grand-father died soon after Independence. Maybe he just didn’t get the chance.”

“When can I expect the ring?” Vidyut’s voice remained mirthful, but his eyes took on an odd intentness.

“End of this week,” Jaiswal replied without hesitation.

“And what do you plan to do about that boy Suraj?”

“I don’t know.” Jaiswal picked up his dagger lying on the table. Moving his fingers gingerly over the blade, he said, “Why keep loose ends? The cops will definitely pull him up for questioning. It would be a pity if he blurts everything out.”

Suraj was the helping-hand at Sriram’s house. He was the one who had divulged the whereabouts of the ring to Jaiswal in exchange for fifty grand.

“Damn!” Vidyut grimaced. “I was hoping to keep this assignment quick and clean. No blood.”

2 comments:

Brilliant so far, love the way you have all those actions slipped in: grinned goofily, stroked his chin thoughtfully, ground his cigarette stub, gestured slicing his own wind-pipe. Makes everything come to life, is so very real life too and moves the narrative so effortlessly. Also liked the whole spider thing you had in the start. Moving on to next.